Fragments of a Broken Dream
by becca85
Summary: Fragments of a broken dream from long ago, now floating upon the waves of memories that were surfacing after years of slumber within the depths of her mind.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: For the sake of this little story, I've placed Sarah at fifteen years old. I think there tends to be debate on occasion about her age when she goes through the Labyrinth, but I've put her at fifteen. When I went back and forth in my mind about fourteen versus fifteen, I was surprised at how much more grown up fifteen sounds, even though it's just a matter of twelve months. I've noticed that all of my posted Labyrinth fanfics deal a lot with Sarah's relationship with her father. Despite the fact that he only shows up in the movie for a minute or two, I feel like he has a lot of potential. In this specific story, I imagine him with quite the sense of humor, so I hope you enjoy it.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters or ideas created by Jim Henson. I borrowed them for the entertainment and amusement of my audience. **

**SUMMARY: ****Fragments of a broken dream from long ago, now floating upon the waves of memories that were surfacing after years of slumber within the depths of her mind.**

**GENRE: Dramatic Humor (aka Drama/Humor)**

**RATING: PG-13**

**DATE: October 24, 2013**

**::~*~::**

Sarah rolled out of her bed and stumbled to the bathroom, blindly picking her way thru the typical teenage clutter of her bedroom floor through eyes glued shut from sleep. Blindly reaching for the light switch, she flipped on the bathroom light. She rubbed fists into her sleepy eyes and slowly opened them. Suppressing the urge to yawn, she leaned closer to the mirror, fingers probing the flesh around her eyes. She wasn't displaying the tell-tale dark circles around her eyes that evidenced severe lack of sleep, but she was so unbelievably tired.

Turning the faucet on, she let the water flow for a few seconds as she tied her long, brown hair behind her. Splashing the ice cold water onto her face, she was mildly relieved to feel the shock of water starting to wake her up more completely. Grabbing the hand towel off of the rung, she started drying her face off.

"Hey, honey."

Sarah shrieked in alarm, whipping the towel from her face as she spun to face the speaker.

Surprised by the outburst, her father, Robert, had taken a step backwards in the hall, concern etched across his features. Regaining his composure, he added, "Expecting someone a bit more sinister?" He couldn't help grinning at his quip.

Sarah didn't answer for several seconds, choosing instead to wipe the remaining water off of her face. She peered at her reflection in the mirror again, sensing something was different about her, but unable to put her finger on what it was. "No, I—" her voice trailed off as her eyes were caught by the toilet tank, or, rather, what was sitting on top of it. She snatched up the small, red, leather-bound book that was lying so innocently on top of the tank, her fingers flipping familiarly through the pages. She turned to look at her father, who was still standing in the doorway. "I just had the strangest dream." She slammed the book shut and waved it in his face. "I dreamt that this really happened. I was _really_ in the Labyrinth, dad."

He plucked the book out of her fingertips and flipped through a few pages before he closed it and tapped her lightly on the head with it. "I've always teased you about having an overactive imagination." He smiled as she grabbed the book out of his hands and tossed it on the counter.

"But, it felt so real. I wished Toby away and then I had to traverse the _entire_ Labyrinth to win him back before the Goblin King turned him into one of his goblin slaves."

Robert was nodding his head absentmindedly, and Sarah was about to accuse him of not listening to her, when he replied, "I hate to break it to you, kid, but your plots to wish your brother away forever have all come to naught." He leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers. "As of two minutes ago, he was safe and sound in his crib, blessedly asleep still, with not a hair, or wart, out of place."

Sarah playfully pushed her dad away as he asked, "Do goblins even have warts?"

"I don't know, dad," Sarah replied, picking up her toothbrush and lathering it with a generous amount of toothpaste. Around the toothbrush and a mouthful of frothy paste, she continued, "I was too concerned with getting to Toby in time that I didn't stop to examine them. Besides, they were too busy trying to kill me." She spit into the sink and rinsed her mouth out. "Of course, the creatures in the Underground could be different in appearance from their same counterparts in other fantasy worlds, so, somewhere out there, goblins could have warts."

Robert's brows knit together in confusion. "Underground?"

"That's what the world is called where the Labyrinth exists," she hurriedly replied before continuing with her theory. "Take fairies, for example. So many fantasy stories paint them as lovely, humanoid creatures that are kind, or shy, and extraordinarily beautiful, like Tinkerbell. Not the fairies in the Underground. They're beautiful, yes, but they also bite you. They even bit me on the finger." She held up her finger to emphasize her point, not at all prepared to see the miniscule puncture on her fingertip.

Her father made a point of examining it. "You probably punctured it on something yesterday. Don't forget, you did cut some flowers from Karen's garden yesterday afternoon. Weren't there roses in your bouquet?"

"Yeah, maybe…" She barely heard his comment, her eyes fixated on the small wound to her finger. "It was a dream, wasn't it?" The question was more to herself than to her father.

Concern creeping across his features once again, he leaned around Sarah and picked up the book from off of the counter. "Maybe I should put this in a safe place for a couple of days…or years," the last was mumbled mostly for his own ears, but Sarah picked up on it.

Snatching the book out of his hands, she clutched it to her chest. "I'll put it away for a few days." She gave him her best smile, but even she could feel how cheesy it was.

He looked skeptical. "It was _just_ a dream?" The tone of his voice clearly stated she needed to be careful how she answered.

She nodded vigorously, the book still pressed against her breast. "Of course! Even I know that magic doesn't exist. Bye, dad!" With that, she closed the door in his face. Leaning her forehead against the cool wood of the door, she listened to his steps as they disappeared down the hall. Once she was sure he was out of earshot, she turned and slid down the door to sit on the bathroom floor. She looked at her finger again, unable to tear her eyes away from the tiny puncture wound. Her dad had to be right. Before she had gone to the park yesterday afternoon, she had cut some flowers from Karen's garden, desiring to do something nice for the woman who was allowing her some free time before she had to babysit Toby. She had still resented her for making her babysit at all, but the gesture had been appreciated and Karen had praised Sarah's flower-arranging skills. She had to have pricked her finger on a thorn. It was completely plausible.

She groaned in frustration, the heels of her hands pressing hard against her eye sockets until she could feel a slight pain in her skull. Did she believe she had pricked her finger on a thorn because it had actually happened, or because believing the alternative would place her one step from the loony bin? She ripped the elastic band out of her hair, ignoring the tendrils of hair that were being pulled from her scalp. She wouldn't be at all surprised if her father were in the kitchen right now, flipping through the therapist section of the yellow pages.

Her eyes narrowed as she saw the book that had fallen into her lap when she had collapsed onto the floor. One part of her wanted to try and flush it down the toilet, knowing full well it wouldn't actually flush but the water damage would destroy it more than enough for her. Another part of her was bursting with curiosity to read the story again, to relive her dream through its pages. Her own adventure had mirrored the story she loved so much far too closely for her comfort. Her hands clenched the book so tightly, she could feel its soft cover curling in her grip. Leaping to her feet, she wrenched the door open and rushed into her bedroom.

Ripping open her closet, she started pulling things out left and right, tossing them over her shoulder as she dug ever deeper. Finally reaching a box of old clothes and toys that she had yet to dispose of, she buried the book deep within and quickly shoved the box back into the darkened corner of her closet. It was good that she was placing it out of sight and out of thought for a time. The vividness of her dream actually frightened her and she was surprised at how vivid it still was, which was contrary to most of the dreams she had. Looking around her messy room, she noticed something else that further emphasized it having been only a dream. There was no evidence whatsoever of the raucous party that had supposedly happened there in her bedroom the night before. As rowdy and messy as it had been, she would have expected to see at least one piece of errant confetti or one wayward speck of glitter somewhere, but there was nothing.

Pushing the dream to the back of her mind, she was surprised at how quickly it faded from memory as the days turned into weeks, then into months, and, finally, years.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: There is a reference in this chapter to my story, "Amazed." See if you can find it.**

**::~*~::**

Sarah happily flew through the door of her room, throwing the collapsed boxes onto her unmade bed. She had just signed the lease on her first ever apartment near the university campus two hours away and to say she was delighted with exerting her own independence was a significant understatement. By the time her father stumbled through the door, buried under a couple of half-filled boxes, she had already propped up a couple of new ones and was tossing stuff into them from off of her vanity, barely looking at what she was doing.

Robert dropped the boxes onto the floor by her bed and fell across the bed in mock exhaustion. "Hey, now," his voice was muffled by the fact that his mouth was buried in the covers, "this is your childhood you're nonchalantly throwing into a box here. Why don't you slow down and savor it? It's not every day you move out of your childhood home."

She paused for a second and glared at him before she went back to throwing the rest of her vanity clutter into the box and started emptying out the small drawers of the little table. "Dad, I have to be on the road in four hours in order to get back before dark. I don't have time to savor the remnants of my childhood."

Robert reluctantly sat up on the edge of the bed and watched his daughter for several moments as she continued hurrying through drawers and cleaning off the tops of pieces of furniture. He wondered why she didn't just position a box at the end of her nightstand, or chest of drawers, and sweep everything off with one swipe of her arm. "Karen's making your favorite meal for dinner." He knew that Sarah, in growing up over the past couple of years, had made a concentrated effort to be civil to Karen, but there continued to be tension between them when they were together, but, at least it was a silent tension. He hoped the bribery of her favorite food would be enough to convince her to stay for at least one more night.

Sarah sighed in exasperation. Long lists of things she still needed to do floated through her head, growing larger by the second, threatening to overwhelm her. On the verge of declining his invitation to stay, she was interrupted by another voice, one that had become very dear to her in recent years. "Please, Sawah."

Toby was standing in her doorway, his arm wrapped tightly around his favorite toy, a tattered brown bear named Lancelot that had been gifted to him by his beloved sister when he was a baby. Somewhere in the course of the morning he had lost his pants and Sarah had to laugh when she saw him standing there in a stained white tee shirt and his Batman underwear, sucking on his thumb. At almost four years of age, Robert and Karen were concerned about his continuous thumb-sucking, but Sarah found it adorable. Now, how could she say "no" to a face like that?

"Alright," she replied, trying to make it sound like it was a big decision for her. Toby's face lit up and he hurried into the room, his chubby legs carrying him as fast as they could. He wrapped his arms around her own slender legs, making carefully sure that he didn't drop his treasured bear and no matter how much Sarah tried, she couldn't pry him off. Finally, she went back to packing again, moving around as best she could with the added weight to her right leg. It slowed her down significantly, but since she had agreed to stay for dinner, she figured she might as well stay the entire night which gave her many more hours to pack everything up.

"Come on, kiddo," Robert said, scooping Toby up off of Sarah's leg. "Let's get some pants on you before your mother has a heart attack."

The last thing Sarah heard before Robert disappeared into the hallway, closing her door behind him, was, "No pants! No pants!" She chuckled as her attention turned to her overburdened bookshelf. It was a good thing her father had chosen to buy her a sturdy, well-built one, having quickly realized her love of reading. She could only imagine how long ago the shelves would have collapsed had she bought one of those flimsy ones that came in a box with assembly required. Putting together a few more boxes, she started pulling books off of the top shelf and reverently placing them in the boxes. She could swipe anything else into boxes without a second glance, but books were very sacred to her and she treated them as the long lost friends she felt that they were.

Caressing each spine tenderly, she relived each story in her mind as she read the titles before placing them into the boxes. With the increasing workload each year in high school and preparations for college, it had been far too long since she had had the time to curl up with a good book and just read for hours on end. She smiled as she remembered how often, as a child, she had hidden under her bedcovers with a book and a flashlight and one ear tuned acutely to the hallway outside her bedroom door.

It took her a few minutes to clear off the top shelf and when she reached up to make sure she had gotten everything, she ended up pricking her finger on something bluntly sharp. Withdrawing her hand sharply, she quickly checked for blood, but was relieved to see that it hadn't pierced the skin. As she stared at the redness that was rapidly disappearing before her eyes, she had an eerie sense of déjà vu wash over her. Another wound on a fingertip, angrier than this one, and gained in a most fantastic way. The feeling slipped away almost as quickly as it had come and she was left feeling utterly confused. She shook her head to clear away the confusion and reached carefully up to feel for what had almost injured her.

Slowly pulling it down, she was surprised to see an old music box. The box was actually smaller than the figurine on top of it. She smiled as she looked at it. The box had been a gift from Karen's mother when the whole family had gone to visit her several years before. She had gifted it to Sarah since the figurine on top had looked so much like the girl. Sarah got a wistful look in her eyes as she gazed down on the doll, mesmerized by the beauty of it. Her mind was miles away, running through memories of a long ago vacation. There had been a maze, but…there was something else, too. Something that was hovering at the edge of her memory. After several moments of quiet reflection to no avail, Sarah brought herself back to the present. Gently turning the key, she wound the box up and let it go. As the doll started twirling on her pedestal, a dancer without a partner, a hauntingly familiar melody started dancing through the air, an invisible partner to the girl on the pedestal. Without thinking, Sarah started humming along. Of course the melody was familiar; it was _her_ music box after all. She'd probably heard it thousands of times before. And, yet… When words spilled from her lips to accompany the melody, she stared in horror upon the doll in her hands, still spinning, oblivious to the thoughts running through its owner's mind. "As the world falls down," she murmured. In the space of a second, an image flashed into her mind, gone before she could fully comprehend it, but leaving fragments in its wake. Blonde hair so pale it was almost white, mismatched eyes of stormy blue and emerald green, mysterious dancers in glittering gowns and suits, faces hidden behind grotesque masks. The image startled her so much, she dropped the music box. It landed dully on the carpet, the music ceasing instantly. "What _was_ that?" she whispered to no one.

Quickly picking up the music box, she stuffed it into a box, not even caring to check whether it still worked. She eyed the bookshelf suspiciously and chose to hold off on finishing it, lest she come across any other surprises. Turning instead to her closet, she pulled the door open, bracing herself against a cascade of falling boxes and clothing. While the closet was packed pretty well, nothing fell out on her. Sizing it up, she wondered how she ever thought she could get everything packed and ready to go in four hours. On second thought, how did she ever think she could fit everything into her tiny little coupe? Squaring her shoulders, she pulled the first box out of the closet and opened it.

**::~*~::**

Two hours later and with the aroma of dinner wafting into her bedroom, Sarah finally pulled the last box out of the back of her closet. She had been rifling through each box and separating everything into piles. As most of the non-clothing stuff in her closet hadn't been touched in a while, most of it was going to the local donation center, but she wanted to make certain nothing crept away that she still desired.

Just as she opened the box, her father's voice called up from downstairs, announcing dinner was ready. She looked at the box and then at the door. She was one box away from completing the closet, but the tempting smell of dinner was too great to pass up. Shoving the box out of the way, she skipped out of the room.

Upon entering the kitchen, she stopped short when she saw Toby sitting in his place at the table, his arm still clutching Lancelot. From head to toe, he was wearing a red and white striped jumper with a matching cap. As she stared at him, she saw a younger version of him, wearing a red and white striped pajama outfit as he cried for his absent mother to pick him up. Eyeing him warily, she inched closer to the table and slid into her seat, never removing her eyes from his outfit. Karen must have noticed as she said to no one in particular, "Do you remember that little pajama set he had when he was a baby? I always thought it was so adorable, but he outgrew it so fast. I was so surprised when I found this little outfit when I was out this morning."

Having no desire to draw attention to all of the strange thoughts she'd been having all afternoon, Sarah merely replied, "He looks like a walking candy cane."

Robert snorted into his drink and Karen glared at him before casting a disapproving look at Sarah. She looked like she wanted to say something other than what came out of her mouth. Kissing Toby on the top of his head, she said, "Well, he's _my_ little candy cane." She turned back to grab the last pan off of the stove.

Toby was not at all amused by the conversation and he shook his head emphatically, pronouncing, "No candy cane!" Thumping himself on the chest with a thumb that had resided in his mouth seconds before, he said, "Toby! _Toe_-bee!"

Robert could contain himself no longer and had to retreat to the hallway where his laughter could still be clearly heard. Sarah chuckled as she reached across the table to ruffle Toby's hair, trying to ignore the cap on his head. It seemed that when they finally sat down to dinner as a family, they couldn't keep the laughter out of their voices and Sarah had to admit that it was one of the best family dinners she'd had in a long time.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This chapter was supposed to be part of chapter two, but the chapter was getting a bit on the long side, so I chopped it into two chapters.**

**::~*~::**

Dinner lasted far longer than Sarah had planned on, but the time had just been gobbled up as she had had her first lengthy conversation where Karen was concerned. She wondered why this easy interaction hadn't occurred sooner, but ashamedly recalled that it was her own fault for the most part. Dragging tired feet into her bedroom, she audibly groaned when she saw the mess all over the place. She still had so much to do, but she couldn't figure out where she was going to find the energy to accomplish even packing one more box.

A low whistle came from behind her and she turned to see her father peering over her shoulder into the room. "Well, if we start with the bed, that'll give you somewhere to sleep when packing gets to be too taxing."

"'We?'" she replied skeptically.

"Of course! It's not every day I get to help my favorite daughter pack up her room and send her out into the real world."

"I'm your only daughter," Sarah said while stepping into the room and navigating her way around towers of boxes and piles of clutter.

"That you know of," he said, following her into the room.

Sarah stopped dead in her tracks and stared at her father in horror. "Kidding!" he quickly said, a grin on his face.

"That was not funny! At all." Sarah went back to navigating her way over to the chair in front of her mirror.

"What? You don't think I sowed some wild oats in my youth?"

"Dad!" she shrieked, covering her face with her hands as she felt the flush of embarrassment creep over her. "I may be an adult now, but there are some things I should never, ever, ever, hear. Your sex life is at the very top of that list."

"It's a good thing I'm only joking then. Now, on to business. What can I help with?"

It took a moment for Sarah to regain her composure enough to look Robert in the face, and even then, she couldn't look him in the eyes for very long. Pointing to a large pile of boxes, she said, "Those can be donated to charity."

"Perfect!" he replied, bending over to pick a box up.

Noticing which one he was going for, she cried, "Not that one! I haven't gone through that one yet." He set it back down on the floor and moved his arms over to another. Hovering over it, he slowly reached down, keeping his eyes on his daughter to see if he was going for the right one this time. When she didn't say or do anything, he hoisted it into his arms, grunting slightly at the unexpected weight of it.

"As soon as Karen gets Toby into bed, she said she would come in and help if you need it."

Sarah slid off the chair and crawled across the floor to the box her father had relinquished. "Great!" she replied as she opened the box. Robert disappeared out the door and down the hallway, whistling quite poorly to a song that was currently popular on the radio.

Sarah started pulling items out of the box. Most of this stuff was stuff she had enjoyed when she was still in the single-digit age of life and she was surprised she hadn't gotten rid of them a long time ago. "Maybe Toby would appreciate something in here," she said to herself just as she pulled out a bright pink tutu from her ballet days. _Probably not that_, she thought as she laughed to herself and tossed the tutu into the donation pile. Digging ever deeper, her hands found the oldest blanket she owned, a blanket that had been knitted with love and care by her grandmother and bestowed upon her when she was born. Her fingers lovingly caressed the soft fabric. Standing up, she reached down and pulled the blanket out, shaking it open. Her mouth dropped open in horror as something came flying out of the folds and crashed right into her vanity mirror before dropping to the table. Dropping the blanket back into the box, she rushed over to the mirror to make sure it hadn't cracked from the impact. After determining the mirror was fine, she dropped her eyes to the offending object.

A book that she hadn't seen in years lay innocently on the vanity's top, the very sight of which sent a shiver down her spine, though she couldn't understand why. She frowned. She remembered that she had loved the book, but for all the thought she put forth, she couldn't remember what the book was about. Her fingers traced the title embossed in gold on the front cover.

"One down and countless more…" her father's words trailed off as he stepped into the room and saw her holding the book. "Wow, it's been a long time since I've seen that book in your hands." He leaned down to pick up another box. "There was once a time that I couldn't pry that book from your fingers." He started out of the room, but Sarah called him back.

"Why did I stop reading it?"

He shrugged the best he could with the box in his arms. "One morning you told me about a very vivid dream you had, where you actually _lived_ the events from the book. I think you actually believed it had really happened. After that morning, you never mentioned it again and I never saw you with that book again." He left the room, but Sarah hadn't failed to notice how uncomfortable her question had made him. She set the book down on her nightstand and turned back to the very pressing packing concern. _Magic doesn't exist. That must have been _some_ dream if I thought it was real._

**::~*~::**

It was nearing ten at night when Sarah finally crawled into her bed. Once her father had carried all the boxes downstairs, her room looked so empty. It didn't even look like her room anymore. She felt like a stranger within its four bare walls. With Robert and Karen helping her, they had quickly sorted the remaining boxes into piles of what she needed immediately and what could wait for the weekend when she would be back for the next load. At least then, Robert, Karen, and Toby would be traveling to her apartment with her with the intent of finding her some inexpensive furniture to decorate with. They had already bought her a queen-size bed as a housewarming gift for her which was set to be delivered the following day.

Sarah tried to suppress a yawn as she slipped out of her jeans. She was too tired to dress in proper sleepwear but fully content to sleep in just her shirt. Luckily the weather was warm enough that she didn't really need pajama bottoms on. She moved over to the window and opened it, letting the gentle breeze cool her flushed skin. She hadn't thought that she could work up a sweat packing boxes, especially when it was her father that was carrying them up and down stairs, but the beads of sweat told another story.

Inhaling deeply, she detected moisture in the late summer air and was certain that a storm was brewing. She hoped it would at least wait until the morning as she had no desire to close the window for the night. Better yet, hopefully it held off until she had gotten her emptied into her apartment the following day. The almost-full moon bathed the lawn below in silver light. Sarah yawned again and turned to leave the window when something brilliantly white caught her eye. In the branches of the tree, right outside her window, a snowy white owl was perched. Its head kept twisting every which way as it appeared to be checking out the environment. It finally stopped when it noticed Sarah staring at it. It cocked its head to the side and softly hooted. Sarah suddenly had second thoughts about keeping the window open.

As if she thought the bird could actually understand her, she shook her finger at it and said, "You stay out there. No flying in my window tonight." The owl softly hooted again, but didn't move. Sarah bit her lower lip as she watched it. As tired as she was, she didn't want to go to bed with that bird so close to her open window, but she also didn't want to close the window. The air smelled so sweet and the breeze was the perfect temperature for an August evening. Hoping to frighten the bird away by staring it down, she leaned on the window frame and stared intently at it for several moments. _I must be more tired than I thought,_ she mused._ I'm engaging in a staring contest with a creature that doesn't even understand the concept of one._

Growing bored, she slid the window closed enough to where the bird couldn't get in, but open enough so she wasn't deprived of the fresh air. Switching off the light, she slipped under the bedcovers. Outside, she could faintly hear the owl hooting ever so softly. Turning onto her side, she watched the moonlight as it filtered through the window. The letters from the title of the Labyrinth book glistened in the silvery moonlight. Despite being incredibly tired only moments before, she now had a burning desire to revisit the world contained within the pages of the little red book. She wanted to remember why she had been so fascinated with the book years before. Turning on her bedside lamp, she plumped up her pillows behind her and settled back to read.

**::~*~::**

_Samantha stood in the entryway of her father's castle as the owl flew around her head before fleeing into the stormy night through one of the high-arching windows. A flash of lightning illuminated the darkened chamber, followed rapidly by a crash of thunder. Samantha held her brother closer to her chest as the rain continued to beat upon the parapets of the ancient castle, the sound thunderous in her ears. Returned safely to her home, with her brother in her care, she was still finding the events of the evening difficult to accept. Knowing it would take weeks to unravel the mysteries of this adventure, she took heart in knowing that she had won her brother's freedom back. She had bested the Goblin King and he had restored everything to what it had been before. The only reminder of the whole evening's adventure was a solitary white feather from the owl's plumage that was lying on the stone floor. _

_A snow white owl?_ Sarah thought. She leapt out of the bed and hurried to the window, flinging it open wide. Leaning out, her eyes scanned the darkened foliage of the tree. The owl that had taken up residence earlier was long gone, but her eyes continued searching as far as she could see. Slightly disappointed, she turned back to her bed. The little alarm clock on her nightstand read 12:04AM. _Isn't that the bewitching hour? When magic happens?_ She turned out the light and flopped back onto her bed. In the darkness, she could make out the shape of the book on her nightstand. It was so strange. As she had been reading, she could almost see the scenes unfolding in her mind's eye, down to even the most minute detail. Fragments of a broken dream from long ago, now floating upon the waves of memories that were surfacing after years of slumber within the depths of her mind. With these fragments to occupy her mind, she slipped into a deep sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I just want to take this brief opportunity to point out that this story was only supposed to be two chapters long at just a couple thousand words. Now that it's complete, I can say that it ended up being six chapters and about 12,500 words long. It also took a decidedly different turn than what I was aiming for, but that could help me to merge it with another, longer Labyrinth fanfic I've had rotting in "incomplete hell" for a while now. This "different turn" of events doesn't actually take place until chapter five, so this chapter is along the lines of what I originally wanted. **

**::~*~::**

Sarah shoved the key into the lock. Her arms were laden with groceries to fill up her empty refrigerator and she could barely manage to get the key to turn without losing everything all over the ground. Through careful maneuvering, she managed to get the door unlocked and open. When she had left, the sun had still been up, albeit obscured by layers of cloud cover. Now the sun had set, the storm was raging, and she was trying to feel her way into the darkness of her new apartment by waving her foot around for obstacles she hadn't yet learned the locations of. Kicking the door shut behind her, she used the brief flashes of lightning to make her way into the kitchen. Dumping the bags onto the counter, she heaved a sigh of relief at having made it without losing anything.

"Hello, Sarah."

Gasping, she grabbed for the handle of a knife out of the block on her counter and spun to confront the intruder. As she faced the darkness of her "empty" apartment, she gave a silent prayer of thanksgiving that her father had been so insistent about sending the makeshift weaponry with her for her first night alone. "Heaven forbid anything should happen to you," he'd said, "but I want to make sure you have a fighting chance to defend yourself." One night! She couldn't even stay safe in her apartment for one night!

Sarah was torn between turning the light on and revealing the intruder and keeping the lights off and hiding in the shadows. In the flash of lightning that tore through all the un-shuttered windows in the room, she saw a figure leaning casually against the wall next to the balcony door. Sarah frowned. Who was he? He certainly wasn't making any attempt to attack her, but that may simply be because he knew he could catch her before she had a chance to wrench the front door open again. Holding her weapon out in front of her, she tried to inflect authority into her quavering voice. "Who are you? I'm warning you, I'm armed."

In the dark, she could hear him scoff. "What are you going to do? Peel me to death?"

Confused, Sarah used the next flash of lightning to see what he was talking about. She almost groaned when she saw the "weapon" in her hand. Throwing the potato peeler on the counter, she grabbed another handle and pulled it out, satisfied with the glint of light on the long metal blade. Turning back to the figure, she almost fainted when she saw emptiness where he once stood. "Where are you?" She was so ashamed at how her voice shook in terror.

"Right here," the voice whispered, directly behind her right ear. Exclaiming in shock, she spun around so fast she lost her balance, falling to the hardwood floor. Terror washed over her as she heard the knife clatter out of reach on the floor. Scrambling to a sitting position, it was all she could do to scoot backwards, away from the stranger, her eyes fixed upon him so he couldn't disappear on her again.

"Who are you?" she asked again, her voice barely more than a whisper, almost drowned out by a crash of thunder.

"I'm hurt that you don't remember me."

"How can I recognize you when I can't even see you?" she shouted in frustration. Even as she said it, she felt a sinking in her stomach. His voice was familiar, though she still couldn't place him. _Like a dream hovering just beyond comprehension. _Her back finally hit the wall and her heart started beating faster as he walked slowly towards her. A few more feet and he would be standing between her and the door, closing off any hope for escape.

"Perhaps a little illumination then." She had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming when a ball of flame erupted from his hand, but upon closer inspection she saw the flames were enclosed in a glass sphere. _A crystal._ Mismatched eyes and white-blonde hair stared at her over the flaming sphere. Groaning in pain, she clutched her stomach as convulsions wracked her body. A dream that had long been lost to the past was flooding through her in its entirety and the overwhelming sensations were making her physically sick.

**::~*~::**

Sarah had no idea how much time had passed but when she regained her senses, she discovered that she had fallen to her side and was huddled on the floor, curled up in the fetal position. Lights were blazing in the apartment and Jareth was leaning against the wall again, his eyes watching her intently. Outside, she could hear the storm continuing unabated.

Suspecting there was no graceful way to ignore what had just happened to her, she slowly sat up, bracing her back against the sturdy surface of the wall behind her. She eyed the Goblin King suspiciously, but he made no move towards her. "Did you even try to help me at all?"

His lips curled into an amused smile. "And be accused of assaulting you? I think not."

"You and I both know that you have nothing to fear in my world."

"Ah, I take it your memory has returned. Let's just say I made sure you weren't dying and that was the extent of it."

Sarah could still feel her body trembling from the aftereffects of the dream returning to her, but she felt confident enough to stand. Sliding her back up the wall, she carefully got to her feet, but, she always was one who tried to run before she could walk, so to speak. Taking one step away from the wall, she almost fell forward and Jareth put his arm out to catch her. She caught herself before falling against him, but she had to hold onto the wall for support. All this movement was making her stomach feel queasy and she debated attempting a run to the bathroom to purge her stomach, despite not having eaten since breakfast. She wobbled on her legs, but stayed standing.

Jareth gestured to the empty living room. "I'd invite you to sit down on a chair, or _some_thing, but it would appear you haven't gotten that far."

"I'll be fine," she grumbled, almost regretting the effort it took to speak and the lurching of her stomach in response. Opting for the only seating room available, she pushed past him and hoisted herself up on the kitchen counter, making sure to keep the sink close by. The queasiness was already fading, but it wasn't completely gone. Deciding it was high time to find out what the Goblin King was doing in her apartment, she looked up to face him.

Startled by a glass of water only an inch from her nose, she peered around it to see him holding it out to her. "Water?"

She accepted the glass and dumped the contents down the sink. Rinsing it out several times with scalding hot water, she replied, "I learned a long time ago not to accept anything from you. Thanks to you, I have an aversion to peaches now." She turned the tap to cold and filled the glass back up. Eyeing the glass warily, she took a tiny sip and glared at Jareth while she waited for any adverse side effects to present themselves to her. Instead of being affronted by her distrust of him, he looked quite amused at her chosen response.

"What a pity. Peaches are such wonderful summer fruits."

"Yes, they were," she angrily replied. "And now I can't enjoy them because of you."

He shrugged his shoulders as if he hardly cared about her current opinion of peaches. He took a moment to survey what he could see of the unfurnished apartment. Sarah took the opportunity to size her opponent up and down. Everything about him was just the same as she remembered. It had been four years and she had grown up quite a bit, but he looked as though he hadn't aged a day, which she suspected was the truth. His white blonde hair wildly framed the sharp features of his face. His lean body was clothed in attire that reminded Sarah of Renaissance festivals and medieval eras long gone; a loose, white shirt under a deep-burgundy vest, opened to reveal a strange silver medallion resting against his chest; black breeches tucked into knee-high riding boots. Naturally his appearance wouldn't be complete without the ever present gloves covering his hands and the black riding crop that was tucked under his right arm. So focused on her study of him, she had failed to notice that he had turned back to her and was now studying her in turn. Caught in the act, she did the only thing she could think of. She drained the glass of the rest of the water, failing to notice she still had more than half the glass left.

"See something you like?" he asked.

It came as no surprise that Sarah's immediate response was to start choking on the water she had foolishly tried to down in one swallow. Jumping off the counter, she leaned her head over the sink as the water came pouring out of her mouth. Jareth took the time to thump her across the back a couple of times before she moved quickly out of arm's reach of him.

"How dare you?" she sputtered.

"How dare I?" he replied. "You were the one who was leering at me."

"I was not _leering_ at you," she retorted, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. Anxious to move on to another topic, she asked, "What are you even doing here?"

"Would you believe me if I said I missed you?"

She shook her head. "I'd call you a liar and order you out of my apartment."

He shrugged and turned away from her, choosing to walk the perimeter of her empty living room. Sarah leaned forward to peer around the kitchen wall, watching him curiously. "No, seriously, what are you doing here?"

He sighed exasperatedly. "Come on, Sarah! I know you have better questions to ask than that! You've just regained an incredibly fantastic memory."

"And, yet, that's what I keep asking."

He gave her a contemptuous look before electing to stand at the balcony door, watching the storm's spectacular display from the relative safety of her apartment. The silence stretched out between them.

"Don't ignore me," she demanded. "Up until yesterday, I remembered nothing of you, or goblins, or Hoggle," she paused as the memory of the stubborn dwarf came to the forefront of her mind, "or any of my friends." She swallowed hard, the thought that her dear friends may have forgotten her as easily as she had forgotten them threatening to invoke tears. "I'd forgotten everything about the Labyrinth and the Underground. All of a sudden, little things here and there start to produce thoughts and ideas that make no sense to me and, next thing I know, here you are. If you don't want to answer the question, then here's another one. What did you do to my friends after I left? How did you punish them for helping me?"

"I did absolutely nothing," he replied nonchalantly.

Sarah crossed her arms over her chest and spoke in clipped tones, "I don't believe you."

"Fine," he said. "Believe me or not. It doesn't change the fact that I am telling you the truth."

"That's not in your nature."

"How do you know what my nature is?" he spun to face her, and Sarah was surprised at the open anger displayed on his face. "You think that because you spend thirteen hours traveling thru my Labyrinth that you know me? You think that because you read of my character in the pages of a book that you know me? Dear Sarah, you don't me at all." His face softened slightly. "Since you won't ask the right questions, let me direct your thoughts. Let me tell you why I took away your memory of that night. Let me tell you how and why you really beat my Labyrinth. Let me tell you why I have missed you, to some degree. Let me tell you why I truly did not harm your friends after your departure."

Conjuring two crystals from mid-air, he blew them out of his hands and Sarah watched them float as gently as bubbles through the air, descending the further they went into the living room. When they were about two inches from the floor, the crystals burst and in their place stood two overstuffed chairs. They were far more elegant than anything Sarah had hoped to grace her apartment. He gestured to the chairs, allowing her first choice. Sarah had a distinct feeling that things were getting serious, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. The manner of his speech and the emotion in his expression…did she really want to hear what he was about to tell her? She sat down.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: In the same vein as chapter two, I had to chop the chapter up because it was getting too long. Only one more chapter after this.**

**::~*~::**

"Allow me to tell you a story. An epilogue of the Labyrinth, if you will." For whatever reason, he ignored the empty chair and remained standing by the balcony door, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes fixed on the stormy night outside. Sarah wondered where his crop had disappeared to.

"To begin with, let me share with you that you are the only person to ever beat the Labyrinth. The _only_ person. If you'd even like to boost your pride on besting me, I'll even confess that you were also the youngest person to ever enter my Labyrinth. Countless people before you, and a few since, have entered the Labyrinth, only to fail in the end. Do you know why?" He didn't wait for a reply, which Sarah was grateful for, because she had no idea. "Love, or rather, the lack thereof." Sarah's face screwed up in confusion and also a bit of embarrassment. Out of all the things that entered her mind just then, the words near the beginning of the book surfaced: _But, what no one knew, was that the king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl and he had given her certain powers._ Her thoughts were terminated as Jareth continued speaking showing his line of speech was nowhere near where her thoughts had drifted. "It takes a certain kind of sadistic person to wish away an innocent child who cannot think or act for him- or herself. A child who is dependent on the same sadistic individual in order to survive the cruelties of your world. A person like that has no love or compassion for anyone but themselves."

Sarah bristled at the assumption that he was calling her sadistic and cruel and had opened her mouth to angrily retort, when his next words stunned her into silence. "You were different. You were little more than a child yourself. Your desire to wish away your brother was born of your childish delusions of what fantasy and magic were all about. You never actually expected it to work, and, deep down, you never actually meant it. It was only ever a book to you. They were empty words that no one was supposed to hear, and yet, they had been spoken and they were heard. Even as you stood before me and tried to take them back, I knew you hadn't meant them, but the ball was in motion, as it were, and there was no way to stop it. You had to run the Labyrinth like so many before you.

"Despite how annoying and how dependent on you Toby was, the moment you realized his freedom was in jeopardy, was the moment you realized how much you really loved him. You were willing to risk everything for him, even sacrificing your dreams which I so readily tempted you with. Your love for Toby is the reason you beat the Labyrinth. That love carried you through its entirety. Had it been anyone else, they would have attempted to win back their loved ones out of some sense of obligation, but no real love. That's why they fail.

"Now, what I just told you ties into why no harm befell the friends you left behind. Everything they did was at my command, yet guided by your actions. When a mortal is in the Labyrinth, there are certain attitudes and behaviors the residents are expected to display, as it is all part of the trial. Treated with love and respect, they are instructed to respond in kind, even going so far as to assist the mortal. Treated with disdain and cruelty, they are instructed to respond in kind, even to the point of leading a traveler astray."

Sarah interrupted him, "But, what about Hoggle? There were times I was cruel to him, stealing his jewels and chastising him for his cowardice. Yet, he stuck by me."

Jareth frowned as he looked at her and she thought he was going to beret her for interrupting him. He finally sat down, relaxing his posture as though he were lounging on his throne. "Are you sure I gave you back the entire memory? I seem to remember he showed you the entrance, then vanished, rescued you from the oubliette, then vanished, panicked at Sir Didymus' bridge, then vanished, and gave you the peach, then vanished. To be completely honest, I'm surprised he kept going back to you as often as he did. Not to say you don't have a sparkling personality," Sarah tensed at the obvious jab of sarcasm there, "but Hoggle was always the hardest to win over. Since he appears so early in the journey, everyone is still in their self-absorbed state of mind that they treat him so cruelly, and this has fueled his natural behavior throughout the years. With the occasional trip to the oubliette to rescue those who become trapped, most of his time is spent on the perimeter of the Labyrinth. His loyalty is never won early enough for him to make the effort to follow the traveler. Yet, with you, by the time you made it to the Goblin City, his loyalty to you was unwavering. Even if you felt there was something harsh in your treatment of him, something about you kept him coming back."

Sarah's expression showed she was still unconvinced. Jareth thought for a moment, before he spoke again. "You have always wanted to be an actress. Of the stage, of the screen, it makes no difference to you. You, of all people, should understand the importance of assuming the guise of a character during a performance."

Sarah's expression softened and Jareth continued on.

"If it makes you feel any better, the next person who entered the Labyrinth, well, let's just say, he was the cruelest sort. Hoggle reverted right back to his role, back to how he was before he ever met you. There was a slim chance he may have been too compassionate to the next individual, because of the friendship he formed with you."

"But, the guy who entered the Labyrinth? You call him cruel, but he made the decision to save his child."

Jareth laughed aloud, but it was full of malice and fury and it sent a chill down Sarah's spine. His voice became animated with animosity. "He wasn't trying to save his son. He was merely trying to save the free slave labor the boy represented. Even you can't be ignorant of its existence in your world. Twice, his teacher reported suspicious bruises and injuries to the child services department and twice the father provided false evidence to protect himself. I won't even horrify you with the details of what the boy suffered after those visits, but I'm sure you can imagine it. He's safer where he is now."

Sarah's stomach turned inside of her and it had nothing to do with the incident from earlier. There was no ignoring the fact that these situations existed, but what kind of a person was she that she tried to pretend they didn't exist? What did she do to help those in need, or actively speak out on their behalf? The thought of what the little boy had suffered made her nauseous. "Safer as a goblin?" she whispered.

"No."

A simple word, two letters long, and yet it completely surprised her. "No?" she repeated quietly, looking at him curiously.

"I have to say _some_thing to motivate the seekers thru the Labyrinth. Of course, once upon a time, children were turned into goblins if they weren't retrieved in the allotted time, but the population was quickly spiraling out of control and I had to figure out an alternate way of taking care of the children. Goblins have an incredibly long lifespan, at least by human standards, so, as morbid as this makes me sound, they weren't dying as quickly as new ones were coming in. I wonder what that says about your world." He mused on the last, before continuing, "So, I started placing these unwanted children where they would be able to live happy lives. You know about the Underground and you know about your world. You also know that books describe fantasy worlds all the time. Some of them may have more fact than fiction in them." He was looking directly at her, watching her reaction to his last comment.

Sarah's interest was immediately piqued, but she stayed on the topic. "Where is he?"

"Neverland."

"Like Peter Pan and Tinkerbell _Neverland_?"

He nodded.

"How is that supposed to be a happier life for him? If reality is anything like the stories, aren't the adults, the pirates, trying to kill the children?"

He shrugged. "I think you're missing the point, but, if it matters, things are more black and white there. Here, he thought it was normal to be beaten and abused. Nobody cared about what happened to him. There, the other boys will quickly show him it's not okay and they'll teach him to defend himself. But, the primary reason he's there as opposed to being anywhere else: he loves Peter Pan. What six-year-old doesn't like an eternally youthful boy who goes on adventures all day, battling his nemesis who happens to be an adult, everything this little boy learned to distrust and loathe? Trust me, he'll be happy."

They sat in silence for several moments, Sarah trying to digest this new, softened side of the Goblin King that she had never had opportunity to see before. He sat, looking pensive, his eyes on her, but she suspected he wasn't seeing her at all. "Do you realize this is the first civil conversation we've ever had? For once, I don't feel like strangling you."

He smiled, a genuine smile that Sarah found she actually liked. "Refreshing, isn't it?" His dry humor in a non-threatening context _was_ refreshing.

"You still haven't answered my original question. Why are you here? You can't possibly tell me you just wanted to catch up on old times." She shifted in her seat, the sudden urge to get up and move around slightly overwhelming in its intensity.

"I haven't finished answering the questions you should have been asking in the first place. I'll get to why I'm here eventually."

Her annoyance at being told she hadn't asked the right questions, questions that had never even entered her mind, raised her irritation level. Her watch showed that it was close to eleven-thirty at night and she was exhausted from all the packing and moving and unpacking. "Can 'eventually' get here sooner, rather than later? It's been a long day."

He frowned and she could see a wall go up behind his eyes. "By all means, if I'm keeping you from something, I'll gladly take my leave of you. However, once I leave here, I won't be coming back. Ever." He waited for her to make her decision. She yawned, but waved her hand in a way for him to continue.

"At least let me make some coffee." Relieved to finally get up and stretch her legs, she went into the kitchen, leaving Jareth alone in the living room. She almost cried in frustration when she saw all the groceries still sitting on her counter in the corner. She had been home for over three hours and most of the food was supposed to be refrigerated. Sighing in resignation, she started pulling items out of the bags, searching for coffee. Jareth had made chairs appear out of nowhere; maybe she could convince him to fill her refrigerator before he left. Provided she didn't piss him off anymore. He could seriously give any PMS-ing female a run for her money with his mood swings. After emptying the last bag onto the counter and sweeping her eyes over the lot, she realized she hadn't bought any coffee.

"Of course," she muttered. Scanning the items again, she couldn't see anything that would assist in keeping her awake. Resigning herself to a lot of yawning and eye drooping in her future, she returned to the living room.

"Is this what you wanted?"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Last chapter!**

**::~*~::**

In the few minutes it had taken her to search the kitchen for coffee, he had done what he did best. Sitting in the living room between the two chairs, there was now an oak table with a genuine silver tray on it, upon which sat a steaming mug and a large coffee pot. Collapsing into the empty chair, she hurriedly picked up the mug and sipped at it, trying simultaneously to satisfy her need for caffeine and not burn her tongue. She noticed after a few sips that there was only the one mug. "Are you not having any?"

A look of disgust crossed his face. "I detest coffee."

She shrugged and went back to sipping the bitter brew. He watched her in silence for a moment before he said, "I find it thoroughly amusing that just an hour or so ago, you didn't trust me with a water glass, and here you are sipping coffee, also from my hand, with no second thought."

She paused mid-sip, her eyes widening slightly as she considered the mug in her hands. Seeing her hesitation, he said, "I haven't done anything to it, but you only have my word for it, which doesn't go very far with you."

"If everything you've said this evening is true, I'd say the value of your word has grown exponentially in the last hour."

He seemed rather pleased with that statement, as though he had just achieved some unspoken goal. "Before I continue, I want to ask you a question. Since that fateful evening, many years ago, have you ever felt like something was missing out of your life, or have you felt complete?"

"Well, I just finished high school a couple of months ago. The epitome of the high school experience is a bunch of post-pubescent, hormonal teenagers running around trying to figure themselves out, _while_ having fun, _before_ being ejected out into the adult world. Of course I felt incomplete. I was trying to find myself."

Jareth didn't say why he asked, he merely mused over her response for a silent moment before he continued with his earlier thoughts. "As I said before, you were still a child in many respects when you went thru the Labyrinth. There were many things you learned as a result of your journey, but there were also some things you wouldn't be able to comprehend as a child. For that reason, I temporarily took your memory away. Many decisions you've made to guide your way thru life were instinctively a result of your experience; you just didn't realize it at the time. For example, your relationship with your stepmother, while never achieving the ideals of what it could be, improved dramatically. Your outward love for Toby became more apparent to your parents; little things that you probably never consciously thought about.

"Now that you're an adult, I've restored your memory to you. Only time will tell if you learn anything more with its return." Sarah got the distinct impression that there was something he wasn't saying, but he didn't elaborate, and she felt it best not to press him. He stood up and walked back over to the balcony door, lost in thought. The storm seemed to have lessened slightly. The wind was no longer shrieking as it whipped around the building and the rain was no longer pounding dents into the roof.

As she sat there, she realized there was only one question he had left to answer, but the very thought of it almost brought a blush to her cheeks. Trying to bypass it, she ransacked her brain for the first thing to come to mind. "You offered me my dreams once, in exchange for keeping Toby." She almost cringed when she realized those were the words coming out of her mouth. Hurriedly, she continued, "The boy that you sent to Neverland, You said that he loved Peter Pan. Did that love play a part in where you decided to place him?"

Jareth turned away from the window. Sarah saw the look in his eyes. A look that said he knew exactly what she was doing…and he was amused by it. She shifted slightly in her seat, grateful for the dim light that was helping to conceal the blush on her cheeks. She couldn't remember having any romantic inclinations towards him before, except for the ballroom fantasy and she had credited that to her drugged senses, but now… She just felt weird in his company.

"What kind of a person would I be if I offered dreams to those who wish away children but not to the children themselves? Most of them just want to be loved."

Sarah smiled in embarrassment. "It would seem that my first impression of you was quite different from my impression of you now."

"Which is exactly how it was supposed to be. Like Hoggle, and Ludo, and Didymus, I was merely acting a part in your journey. I tried to emphasize that point earlier to ensure that you understood its implications weren't restricted only to my subjects." He snapped his fingers and the chair he had been sitting on vanished, along with the table full of coffee supplies. Sarah got to her feet and Jareth waved his hand and made the other chair disappear. Suddenly, Sarah felt very small in the silence of the large, empty room. "You wanted to know why I'm here. I'm here to offer you your dreams again."

"What's the catch?" Sarah asked, after a moment's pause. Her opinion of him may have greatly increased as he explained to her a little bit more about why things had happened the way they had, but she certainly wasn't crazy enough to go from no trust whatsoever to complete trust at the drop of a hat.

He stood erect, his hands clasped behind his back. He seemed to have slipped back into the stance of a king presiding over his subjects. Sidestepping her question, he returned to one from earlier. "Do you feel whole in your life here, or do you feel like something is missing?"

Sarah frowned. That wasn't what she was expecting to hear.

"Think hard before you answer. Have you ever felt like you didn't quite fit in here?"

His words brought back many introspective moments she'd had throughout her life. Sure, she'd had friends all thru school and she'd been involved in plenty of extracurricular activities, especially theater and drama, but Jareth's insistence on her giving it some thought before she answered made her assume that he was looking for something specific. In that moment, she remembered how often she'd gone out with groups of friends, but felt emotionally lost in the crowd. She remembered how she'd tried so many different things—dance, art, soccer, cooking, debating, etc.—only to realize nothing ever satisfied a craving she'd never known she had until this moment. She'd always passed it off as a child merely trying to figure out what she liked and disliked in the world. It occurred to her then that the only reason she was pursuing a career in acting was because she was able to escape from her dissatisfying life into roles that were intriguing and fascinating and they allowed her to live out fantasies she could never hope to embrace, even if it was only for a few short hours each day. She'd always felt like there was something more in store for her, but she couldn't quite reach it. Part of her problem was that she didn't know what she was looking for.

She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, as though she found the muggy August evening chilly. Lost in her thoughts, she'd forgotten that she wasn't alone in her apartment.

"I suppose," she started, "that deep down, I've always felt like something was missing. It's not something I've ever really thought about. I'm sure thousands of people feel the same way. I'm still young, so I'm sure I'll find it eventually."

Surprisingly, he smiled in response. "Are you certain you'll find it here?"

Sarah felt like his words were veiling something that should be obvious to her, but it wasn't. Sarah laughed, more to disguise her unease than for anything amusing. "Well, obviously not here in this apartment. It's not that monumental or grand a place. But, maybe I'll find the missing piece during my university years or afterwards when my career takes off. I just have to be patient."

"Here in your world?"

She felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown on her. She rubbed her arms a little more vigorously. "What are you saying?"

"I've always been fascinated with you, Sarah. You're the only one to ever best my Labyrinth, and you did it with compassion and consideration for those around you. Naturally, I'd be drawn to you, as it sets you apart from everyone else that has ever entered my domain. I'm saying that I am offering you the chance to return to the Underground. To live there. I think the Underground could really use someone like you." He spoke slowly, so he could impress upon her what he was offering. His body was tense as he waited for her to accept or reject him for the second and final time.

Sarah considered her words before she spoke. "Last time, you offered yourself to me, but I refused you. I was too young to understand. That's what you meant earlier, when you said there were some things I couldn't understand before, wasn't it?"

In answer, he merely cocked his head to one side. He remained silent. She was so torn. The very thought of being able to return to the Underground, to see her friends and to delight in all the wonderful adventures she could have was, oh, so tempting, but could she really leave her home and her family behind? And, what would leaving everything behind entail? Could she come back to visit? Would she be forbidden to return? These were the questions that plagued her. How much time did she have to consider his offer?

"What would happen to everything I leave behind here?"

He concerned her question, pacing alongside the wall. "There are two ways to go about this, one slightly distasteful." Her eyebrows shot up. "We can go the same route I use with the children who don't get to return home and I can erase your existence from the memories of everyone you've ever come in contact with." This hit Sarah like a sledgehammer to the stomach. She collapsed against the wall behind her, its unyielding presence being the only thing keeping her upright. She could hardly bear the thought of her father and Toby forgetting all about her. She had some cherished memories with them that she didn't want taken away, even after she left…if she chose to go to all.

"The second?" she whispered.

"I can stage your death." It was said so simply and plainly that she wondered if she heard him right at all.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I can stage your death," he repeated. It was clear that he took no pleasure in the option. "That way, your existence lives on in the memories of your family and friends, but they receive the closure they need to realize you aren't coming back. If you come to the Underground, you can't come back here, even to visit."

Sarah lost all feeling in her legs. She slid down the wall to sit on the carpet, her mind awhirl with every implication of the choice before her. She didn't think anything could possibly be worse than erasing her existence completely, but she had been dead wrong. She hadn't realized how tightly her hands had been clenched until she looked down and saw a thin line of blood appearing on her palm where her nail had broken the skin. She took a deep, shuddering breath. "How long do I have to consider the offer?"

In a manner most unbefitting a monarch, he sat down next to her, his back against the wall, his long legs extended out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. "I can give you an hour at most, but after that I must return to the Underground. You have no idea what goblins can do in the absence of a governing hand. I may not even have a castle to return to." His slight attempt at humor fell on deaf ears. The only thing Sarah could manage was a faint smile that quickly disappeared. "If my opinion has any weight whatsoever, I want you to say yes."

"Why?"

"Well, let's see. You've only seen the Labyrinth, and we both know that I am quite a vain king, so I want to show off the rest of my kingdom. Putting it into a context you can understand, it's like seeing London and thinking you've seen the entire world. There's so much more to be discovered that you can't possibly imagine."

She smiled in spite of herself. It sounded wonderful and she wanted so badly to accept, but she was held back by the love she bore for her family. It was asking a lot for her to forsake them and never look back. "Is that the only reason?" Those haunting lines from the book were never far from her thoughts now. She wanted to know, but she was too unsure to come right out and ask.

"You're not stupid, Sarah. I know you're thinking the same thing I am. 'Does he love me? Can he love me?' First impressions are so misleading. I loathed you upon our first meeting, as much as you did me. It was all a game to you. A chance to act out a fantasy that only existed in your mind. 'Be careful what you wish for.' Isn't that what they say? I was going to grant you what you wanted, but not in the manner in which you wanted it. Yet, you overcame it all. You beat me at my own game. Even when I changed the rules, you still triumphed. However, saying that I love you now is a gross overstatement. Let's just say that, right now, I am fond of you and your fiery spirit. I am fond of how you fight against injustices and refuse to take anything lying down. To be honest, if you had accepted my offer the first time around, I probably would never have come to respect the person you've become in the intervening years."

That made her smile, but it did not make the choice any easier.

They sat in companionable silence as the minutes ticked by. Occasionally, he would make some remark about his kingdom or the citizens who lived therein and Sarah suspected he was trying to sway her to accepting his offer to live in his kingdom.

When he got to his feet, she knew the time had come. It had gone without saying earlier that this was a one-time offer that would never be repeated. It was now or never.

He held his hand out to her.

**::~*~::**

**A/N: I bet that you are hating that I left it hanging (provided you enjoyed the story at all). Yes, this is the end. I'll leave it up to your own imagination whether she went with him or not. I'm slightly dissatisfied with this last chapter, but after numerous reviews of it, I can't figure out what I don't like about it. It may have something to do with Jareth being a little out of character, but that needs to happen for the explanation to hold its own. I was also tired of chopping up chapters, so this one intentionally stayed long. I hope you enjoyed it!**


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